Laundry Girl
by NatxAxLIE
Summary: A half-empty bottle of detergent and bleach-stained clothing aren't Sephiroth's only problems.


Heh, totally inspired by the song by Ludo, summer break, surviving AP tests, and senior year. After an intense period of writers block, I'm just going to let it all out before I have to start making college applications and take a ridiculous amount of tests. Hope you enjoy reading it, I enjoyed writing it. It isn't AU, but rather a little peice of something big I have formulating in my evil, little head. If dear ol' Sephi seems OOC, there's a reason ;) (Trust me once I get around to starting this proect, you'll understand why. And it won't be this way for long.)

Disclaimer: I don't own anything, including the Ludo song "Laundry Girl" (Although I wouldn't mind owning one Andrew Volpe *cough*).

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_**Laundry Girl**_

When he thought about it, really sat there and pondered for hours, Sephiroth decided that everything had started with a half-empty bottle of detergent.

Well, that and the lack of change required to dry his soaked socks and bleach-stained clothing (all of which he was sure Maya would reprimand and possibly make fun of him for) whilst he struggled with getting the _damned_ cap on the canister of slowly diminishing Tide. He had warned against having to undertake the task, argued but eventually succumbed since, frankly, it didn't seem like too bad of an idea to do something else rather than attempt to recall his life before Junon and live out yet another boring day comprised of doing mundane things such as fixing a leaking faucet or replacing a burnt-out light bulb. But now, as he sat on one of the many benches and irritably ran his fingers through his now short hair (he often forgot that he practically chopped everything off with a pocket knife in a fit of rage, forcing Maya—his impromptu caretaker—to bring out the electric razor and give him a rather military-looking hair cut he felt that oddly suited him), Sephiroth fought a headache that threatened to consume him, almost lashing out as the bell that signaled a person's entry into the Laundromat sounded. He refrained from reacting violently for one sole reason: the woman who walked in—petite, fair-skinned with brown hair and soft chocolate colored eyes—was so painfully _familiar_ to him. She seemed to recognize him as well; evident by the way her eyes narrowed in a defiant but unspeakably fearful way, and—in a laughable and completely childish manner—chose to wash her clothing in a machine that was placed furthest from the one currently in his use. He chuckled outright and proceeded to formulate a plan that could, with one swift blow, both aide in solving his predicament and amuse him to no end.

He stood and slowly walked in the mysterious girl's direction, hands in his pockets as a sly smirk found a home on his pale lips. The girl sensed his presence and with a visible gulp redirected her attention from her pile of particularly clean-looking laundry to the silver-haired man now looming over her.

"Yes?" she asked curtly; he had grown to like her already.

"I was wondering if you could possibly spare some change since," he motioned his head towards his own stack of wet clothing placed on top of one of the washing machines, "I'm afraid I only brought enough for a few spin-cycles."

The woman peered over his shoulder to scan the, with the exception of the two of them, empty Laundromat, glared and crossed her arms.

"Why don't you ask your _mother_ for change?"

"I would if I knew who she was."

Sephiroth was rather amused when her eyes widened in surprise, and he leaned against the wall of driers next to her station. She recovered quickly and fished through the pockets of her grey wool coat for a couple of quarters, tossing them in his direction upon finding them.

"Thank you," he said adding a "my name is Sephiroth, by the way" as an after thought. His attempt at small talk proved futile when she remained unresponsive save for the "That's nice" supplied upon noticing he expected something more from her.

Sighing, Sephiroth made his way back to the unfinished laundry. The initial wash took much longer than it did to dry and, for lack of a better thing to do, he decided to wait for a short while until his only other companion deemed herself ready to leave. Not wanting to miss his last opportunity, Sephiroth all but raced the brunette to the door and stared smugly as her wide-eyed gaze melted away when she dropped her façade of being a mild-tempered lady.

"What could you _possibly_ want from me?" Her knuckles where gradually turning white as the vice-like grip she had on her basket tightened—how wonderful, he was finally getting _somewhere_ with the rather difficult woman who remembered him.

His face remained an imposing mask that was devoid of any emotion that was otherwise visible on hers, "You will let me walk you home" and, with the brutal frankness he so readily displayed, there really was no room for argument. The laundry girl, nevertheless, did not cease to surprise him. She whirled around in a furious tornado of brown and grey.

"I'll call the police! I know the President personally!"

He did nothing more but raise a questioning eyebrow in response.

"Ugh! Fine, but…just don't…you…" Groaning dejectedly, she stormed away, stopping only once to shout, "Well, are you coming or not?" as he stood motionlessly—and who was he to refuse?

It was through those peculiar circumstances that Sephiroth found himself engulfed in awkward (on her part, at least) silence. She coughed and, oh _so_ predictably, decided it would be better to endure a conversation with him rather than suffer through a few more blocks of thinking about words that were left unsaid.

"You, uh, live here?" she asked.

"Only recently," he replied, "only until I manage to get some of my…bearings straight."

She hummed a reply and continued, "Oh. Well, I don't. I'm just visiting a friend for a little while."

"It wouldn't happen to be the president, would it?"

She laughed uneasily, "Well…no. I'm actually on my way to Costa del Sol. I'm just staying here for a few days until my boat gets here."

He nodded slightly, "Costa del Sol…is it nice there?"

"Oh, it's absolutely beautiful!" she exclaimed, "All that white sand and the clear blue ocean. I visit every year just because of the sight. This one time I…" she paused, "I'm rambling aren't I?"

The two laughed.

"I always have a bad habit of doing that. I'm so embarrassed."

"Don't be," he said in the most comforting tone he could muster, "if anything, I think it's rather cute."

She blushed, but said nothing until they reached the front of the hotel she was residing in.

"You know," Sephiroth began before bidding laundry girl farewell, "I still don't know your name."

"Tifa. Tifa Lockheart."

Sephiroth bowed his head, "It was a pleasure meeting you, Miss Lockheart."

Tifa adjusted the basket under her arm, "I don't think I could say the same thing about you."

Without further warning, she disappeared through the double doors of the building. The nagging feeling at the back of his mind that told him that this might not have been the first time they encountered each other left him thinking that she wasn't talking about today.


End file.
